


Come What May

by MissHarmonySong



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Human Doctor (Doctor Who), Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-06-29 19:51:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15736236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissHarmonySong/pseuds/MissHarmonySong
Summary: John Smith, a young writer, comes to Darillium to pursue the life of a bohemian writer. Destiny brings him to Harmony and Redemption a nightclub that belongs to one of the most feared men of the city. It's there that John meets River Song the club's diamond and a beautiful courtesan who wants to find love and fly away. But, of course, creatures of the underworld can't afford to love. Shameless Moulin Rouge AU.





	1. Chapter 1

 

In their last session, Dr. Oswald, his psychologist, had suggested that instead of trying to remember his past, John ought to work on moving on into the future.

But what do you do when you suffering from a disorder in which you are unable to recall memories of a traumatic event?

What do you do when have to assume that the person you love is dead simply because you don’t remember what happened to it? Something you know it’s true only because you're told so. Like the way you know stories about your fourth birthday party or your first day of kindergarten.

A soft sigh escaped his lips. You can’t have a closure to a story when you can’t even remember how it ends.

The story he had promised her that he would write and tell the world, their story. Yeah, somehow its one of the parts he remembered too well, his promise to her along with the lights… the music… her eyes (a beautiful sea green, deep and piercing that shifted in shade with her every emotion)…her smile (sweet one moment, sultry and downright wicked the next). He had replayed them all in his head countless times, usually while lying sleepless in bed, hoping that his subconscious somehow would connect the dots and fill the gaps of his memory.

Sometimes, in his dreams, he could almost hear music. Other times, he could hear a female voice whispering in his ear. But he couldn’t for the life of him make something of those dreams. He had often discussed them with Dr. Oswald but she had provided no real answers only more questions: _“What song do you think that is? Can you recognize the voice? What she said?”_

His answer was always the same, ‘I …I don’t know… I don’t remember...’’

And now, here he was back to the place he once called home. Calloused fingers pushing painfully slowly on the keys of a typewriter to fulfill a promise made many years ago. Outside his window the building which had once lit up the night, now stood bare and lifeless.

Here we go, John thought to himself as he let out a deep sigh and began to read aloud his writing: They say memories… memories become stories when we forget them…

* * *

 The year was 1930, and at the young age of 28, John Smith was itching for an adventure, something new and exciting, different than the routine and unfulfilling small town life he knew, so he'd stole the first ship he had found and set sail into the unknown. He wanted to be a writer and Darillium was a Bohemian, modern center of the artistic world, full of people who worshipped freedom, truth, beauty and above all things love. There was only one tiny problem. He’d never been in love.

Disowned by his wealthy father and with barely a penny to his name, he had purchased a tiny, two-room flat high above the main street ready to begin the life of an artist (a penniless existence of an artist). He was lucky that he had came across a lady that took a fancy to his looks, and with the promise that he’d write her a love song, she had let him rent out the flat first and make payments later. There were still boxes full of stuff that he had yet to unpack. Then again, if he couldn't make real payments soon, it might not be necessary.

Across from the apartment building, lay the place where John’s entire world would change forever. Harmony and Redemption… a nightclub that belonged to one of the most feared men of the city, if not the most feared of them all. A kingdom of night time pleasures where the rich and powerful came to kick back and relax....that was also a part of why this flat had been so cheap. No one wanted to live across from a building with such a reputation or noise. Speaking of which...

He had just sat down to start his very first page on his typewriter –hoping inspiration would strike soon- when a loud crash was heard from above. Apparently, John had new neighbors (Some new and very loud neighbors.)

Sighing he ran a hand through his floppy dark hair trying to ignore the noise and concentrate back to his writing when a fat, bald man dressed as a priest fell through the ceiling and landed with a thud on the floor.

"Nardole!" A female voice from upstairs called. “You alright, mate?"

He touched his forehead and noticed some blood staining his fingertips. "I've been better." he groaned, sucking the air through his teeth.

John glanced up at the hole where the fat priest had just crashed through and spotted a young African American woman with massive black curls peering down at him.

As if just noticing John's presence in the room, she gave him a brief smile. “Oh, hey!! We're your upstairs neighbors!’’

Before John could retort, another woman’s head appeared through the newly formed hole in the ceiling. Attached to her hair she had one of those flat little black hats Victorian women used to wear. It was ornamented with black and red berries on the brim and a little bit of a black veil over the top. Her face was covered in a thick layer of makeup and looked thoroughly displeased.

"Um, excuse us just a second," the woman with the massive black curls said then both of them disappeared and soon after, his door flew open to reveal a lady dressed as a scary Mary Poppins and a woman in a metallic spandex bodysuit.

The young lady in the metallic costume shoved her hand at John rather nonchalantly, as though it were nothing out of the ordinary. "I'm Bill! Bill Potts, this is Missy …and it seems you’ve met Nardole! We were rehearsing a play and it seems our friend here got a tad bit too excited.”

“I don’t suppose any of you will be paying for this?”John murmured still in a state of shock.

“Don’t be grumpy, Chinny! This apartment is crap anyways. When our play gets ready, we’ll be rich! After that you can have…” Missy interrupted but didn’t get to finish her sentence as the man dressed as a priest fell to the floor with a loud thud.

“Wonderful we barely have a script and now he is dead again.” she said sarcastically while poking the poor man in the ribs with her umbrella.

John's eyes widened. It was almost comical, the look of shock on his face. “What do you mean again?”

“He suffers from narcolepsy. Perfectly fine one moment, then unconscious the next," Bill started to explain but she stopped suddenly when something caught her attention. “Hold on…Is that a typewriter?!

John frowned, his eyebrows knitting as her finger pointed on his desk. "Are you a writer!?"

‘’Close enough. Why?’’ 

The two women exchanged a brief look then Bill snapped her fingers and exclaimed, "Exactly."

"Hey you! Come closer!"

John rolled his eyes, but obeyed.

“Just listen, please.”

Over the next few moments, John learned all about this play. They aimed for something very modern and very Bohemian, but the script they had come up with so far, wasn’t very good. Apparently the owner of Harmony and Redemption was looking to change the building's, um let’s say, rather bad reputation, so he can shut down the place and turn it into a theater.

They could hear water running and cupboards opening and closing and a moment later John returned with a basin of water and a cloth. Laying them on the table beside the couch he sat himself into a small chair, dragging it closer to the unconscious man.

He put several long fingers in the water and flicked them in Nardole’s face. A moment later he started to moan trying to turn his face away from the cold water drops.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow!" He mumbled, slowly opening his eyes. He was greeted with a relieved look on John’s face and a mildly amused look on Bill's.

‘'Sorry my kitchen tab mostly ran on cold water.’’ John apologized as he next lowered the cloth into the water and brought it to the cut on Nardole’s head.

Bill gave a very unladylike snort. "Oh come on, mate. You've been held up at gunpoint and almost beaten to death countless times; why you acting now like a big baby?"

Nardole’s head turned sharply to frown at her while another low hiss escaped his lips as the cloth touched his cut again.

Six pairs of eyes stared at John waiting for him to say something. The flat was now deathly quiet compared to the tornado that had crashed into it earlier, but not one of them seemed to dare to break the silence first. Surprisingly, he relented. With a heavy sigh he placed the cloth on his desk and pinched the bridge of his nose feeling the start of a headache coming on. “I suppose I could give it a try…" But before had a chance to finish his sentence Missy gave him a mischievous grin and grabbed his wrist, dragging him into the flat above. Clearly she had a plan, the strange, slightly creepy gleam in her eyes said so.

“Now, just a minute, I haven’t agreed to anything yet,” John protested, but it didn't seem like the others were willing to listen to him as they had already start discussing their plan.

“But how will we convince Hydroflax?” Nardole asked, rubbing his bald head in thought.

At the mention of the name John’s eyes slowly went wide as realization dawned on him. Hydroflax? Of course he had heard that name before. The butcher of the Bone Meadows, who ends his battles by eating his enemies, dead or alive. The head of the most powerful and feared group of organized crime this city had ever seen. Known to everyone as the King. Oh, what he was getting himself into?

“No, no, no, I can’t, I’m sorry, I can’t write the play.” he finally cried, unconsciously straightening his bow tie.

“What? Why?" Missy demanded to know.

“I …I don’t even think that I’m a true bohemian revolutionary.”

Nardole grabbed his shoulders and shook him slightly. “Do you believe in beauty?”

John paused at that, taken aback, “E-excuse me?”

“Freedom?" Missy asked, firmly.

John nodded. “Well, yes but …"

“Truth?"

Once again, he nodded.

“Love?" Bill finally added and it caught John’s attention more than anything else.

“Love? Above all things I believe in love. Love is like oxygen! Love is the reason we are alive, love is everything! All you need is love!” He could feel his face grow hotter with each word and he knew that he was now blushing profusely. Once again he had allowed his passion for love -something he himself had never felt- to carry him away.

“Aww! Your innocence is adorable! A true bohemian revolutionary! Don’t worry, we'll corrupt you!” Missy teased, as she began to pour out glasses of bourbon. “Everything will be alright; we just need to introduce you to a friend. Once you read her your play she would be astonished, after that Hydroflax will have no choice but to put on our show!”

John sighed. He was penniless and needed whatever work he could get, and if the Harmony and Redemption could give him one, then so be it.

“Okay, let’s start to work then” John announced rolling up his sleeves.

"First, a toast!" Missy stated raising her glass. Everyone followed her example.

“To our new writer.” She paused and frowned. “Wait…What is your pen name?"

The question stunned him. A pen name? What for? Then again if his bohemian dream failed he wouldn’t have to disgrace the family name even more. Sometimes he could still hear his father’s voice in his head when he had announced him that he will drop medical school to travel at Darillium and become a writer: _“You’ll end up wasting your life at Darillium with some cancan dancer!"_

He shook his head, shooing the distracting voice away and said the first thing that came to his mind. “Ermm…The Doctor?”

Missy made a face. "The Doctor? Hmm…a bit strange name for a writer...”

“He is helping people. It suits him." Bill interrupted her then declared, "To the Doctor!”

 


	2. Chapter 2

The moment he stepped inside Harmony and Redemption, John felt completely overwhelmed. It was like he had fall down a rabbit hole and ended up in Wonderland. Everything around him was bright, loud and vibrant, a world unlike anything he could have ever imagined.

His excitement was only surpassed by the nervousness he was feeling about meeting the club's Diamond.

“Which one is the Diamond?” John shouted trying to get Bill to hear him over the loud music.

She just laughed and patted him on the shoulder, “You’ll know her when you see her!”

John cocked his head, curious. Then everything went dark.

There was a soft gasp as a spotlight shone upon a cloud of smoke and confetti that fell like raining diamonds from the ceiling. Once the smoke cleared it revealed a female figure in a white fur trimmed hooded red floor-length cloak, sitting upon a trapeze with her legs crossed, several yards above the wooden stage. Her face was partially obscured by the hood.

Eventually, her ruby red lips parted and in the silence her voice rang out clear. _“The French… are glad to die… for love…”_

“It’s her,” someone behind John shouted, “River Song.”

John felt his mouth go dry in an instant. “River Song,” he repeated as if he was testing out the taste of her name on his lips.

There was a pause. River smirked, threw back her hood and fell backwards. Many gasps and 'oohs' echoed in the room, but River caught herself on her legs. Now upside down, she began to swing on it, making it twirl round in circle, giving the impression, she could touch the audience with her fingertips if she wanted.

 _“Yet I prefer a man who lives…and gives expensive..."_ she sang, every pair of eyes on her.

John’s lips were stretched into a broad smile. This woman was a siren in human form. That would at least explain her hair.

 _"...jewels."_ River finished dropping her voice to a seductive whisper.

The lights came on and the trapeze was lowered. The crowd screamed their approval and she hopped off, continuing her song.  _“A kiss on the hand may be quite continental, but diamonds are a girl's best friend.”_

She was purring like a kitten accepting handfuls of money and expensive gifts from her suitors, returning each offering with a shake of her hips and giving an extra wink to those she fancied.

_“A kiss may be grand, but it won't pay the rental on your humble flat. Or help you feed your HMMM pussycat.”_

River blew a kiss, tossed her cloak out into the crowd and shouted, “Come and get me boys and girls!”

“Oh, my …” was all John could say, like he was under some kind of spell.

Sadly the spell was broken when Missy -who was way beyond tipsy at this point- sneaked up behind him nearly making him jump out of his skin. “Captivating, isn’t she?”

He blinked a few times, startled from his reverie. The knowing little grin he received in return made him feel suddenly stripped bare.

“After her number I’ve arranged a meeting for you and her!” she winked suggestively. “Totally alone!”

John felt heat blooming over his cheeks, turning the tips of his ears pink. “A-Alone?”

Missy laughed, deep and throaty obviously enjoying his discomfort. “Yes! Totally alone!”

John looked back to the stage where River performed her number and saw that she had pushed a woman to the floor, hovering over her seductively. He opened his mouth, but all that managed to come out was a gasp. ‘Jeez, John, get a grip already!’ he thought to himself, then cleared his throat and tried again, “And then what?” He asked meekly.

“First, my dear…," she teased and kissed the tip of his nose three times like she wanted to emphasize her point. A grimace graced his face. “You will impress her with a sample of your best romantic poetry.”

“And then…'' she gave John a mocked, mischievous smile -never a good sign- before added, “Then you will receive the official welcome package.” With that she grabbed his wrist and placed his palm on her bosom.

His eyes bulged and he quickly jerked his hand away from her like he was on fire.

At the same moment, a waiter carrying a tray full of drinks passed behind him. John’s arm swept the drinks off the tray and straight into the lap of the wealthy-looking man sitting in the booth to his left.

A low "Oops!"escaped Missy’s lips as she rose from her seat only to find herself face-to-face with a very wet and angry man, so close their noses were almost brushing.

She gulped audibly. “Apologies. Clearly you have not received the official greetings package.”

Meanwhile, a few meters away, several can can dancers dressed in corsets and colorful skirts that left little to the imagination rose on the stage; lifting their skirts and shielding River from all the starving eyes to allow her have a fast costume change.

Nardole grasped the chance, slipped through the crowd and up to the stage to inform River that the investor was here.

“Well, you took your time. Where is he?" She scowled in a very inpatient tone while taking off her clothes.

“Sorry, ma'am. This is him. This is the investor. He’s the one Missy is harassing!”

"Where?” River asked peeking out over Nardole’s shoulder just in time to see Missy taking John’s hand and placing it on her bosom. Of course she thought that he was the man Nardole was talking to her about and her face expression quickly turned to a frown. He was without a doubt a quite handsome man, but he was younger than she expected, with a funny haircut and a bow tie that made him look out of place on several levels.

“Doesn't look very impressive, does he? Nardole, what have you brought to me?”

Nardole’s eyes quickly scanned the booths again and he let out a soft gasp. Missy had pushed the investor against a wall, kissing him very intently while he flailing his arms in horror.

“That's the one. He is a Doctor and he one of the richest men in Darillium!” he confirmed, “We just need to hope that Missy doesn’t frighten him away!”

“Will he invest?!” River asked worriedly, removing her gold and pearl statement necklace for around her neck.

“After spending the night with you, how could he refuse?’’ he said with a wink, earning a chuckle from River. Men, after all, are idiots.

“So, what’s his type?” she asked, tugging a sparkly silver tank top into place before pulling on a long black skirt with a high front thigh slit.

“Wilting flower?” she placed a hand over her chest dramatically while batting her long eyelashes innocently.

“Bright and bubbly?” she suggested putting a fake, cheerful smile on her face.

Nardole looked thoughtful for a moment, but responded with a shake of his head.

“Or hell in high heels?” She purred seductively, her hands traveling downwards, outlining her curves.

“Oh yes, hell in high heels should do it,” He decided.

“Remember a real show, with a real theater, with a real audience. And you'll be . . .’’

“A real actress . . .” River finished for him. Her mind wandered far, far away for a moment then she heard her cue and plastered on her best fake smile.

The makeshift wall of skirts disappeared and River jumped up, continuing her song.

When she reappeared, John’s jaw dropped open. In her new outfit she almost looked like a piece of the night sky. A star, shining so bright as the entire universe was spinning around it. John figured she probably was. It made sense.

The crowd lifted her off the ground and guided her right to John.

The blonde landed right in his lap, a coy smile on her lips as she leaned to whisper right in his ear, “Hello sweetie!” Her voice was soft and low and dangerous. The kind of voice he imagined would leave a man weak in the knees, begging to hear it whispered to him in a darkened bedroom. ‘’I believe you’ve been expecting me.”

“I… Y-Yes…” John gasped. He could feel the heat rising on his neck, the collar of his white shirt tightening as the air in the room thickened. He quickly plucked a glass of whisky off the tray of a passing waitress taking a deep gulp; he was going to need all the help he could get tonight.

“Oh, hey, River, have you met…” River waved Bill off before she could finish, her eyes never leaving John. “I’ll take care of him.”

One corner of her perfectly formed lips curled up in what could only be classified as a confident smirk and motioned to the bartender. “Florian, get me a Martini, dry.”

The bartender immediately sprung into action. “It’s Flemming, Miss.”

River leaned forward, pressing her body against John’s. Their lips now dangerously close to each other, but when he made no farther move, she mistakenly took it as a rejection.

She gave a little groan of dissatisfaction and turned back to Flemming, “I really don’t care.” But in the space of two seconds her expression had turned mischievous again.

"Careful darling," she stated taking John’s glass out his hand, "the night has just started." She winked at him taking her own sip before turning towards the crowd that brought her here, “I’m afraid it’s ladies choice!”

Her announcement was met with a chorus of disappointed 'awws'. River responded with a playful giggle and before John realized it he was hauled out of his seat.

‘’This way. We don't have a lot of time,’’ she instructed, leaving no room for argument.


End file.
